Playing On A Weakness
by TheInkEngraver
Summary: Set during the 2003 anime. During a seemingly normal day at the office, Team Mustang are captured and held hostage by a gang looking to steal information. The question is though, will they be able to withstand their captors as they exploit weaknesses in a deadly game that reaches further than they expect? *Will contain whump, Parental!RoyEd and Protective!HavocFuery*
1. Chapter 1

**After a couple of months of not posting anything, I've jumped across fandoms into Fullmetal Alchemist! Though this doesn't mean that I won't go back to my corner in Transformers - I'm actually working on an idea for that at the moment, so interested parties stay tuned!**

**I apologise if I've got any details wrong, I'm only up to episode 37 (The Flame Alchemist, The Bachelor Lieutenant & The Mystery of Warehouse 13) of the 2003 anime, but absolutely love the set up of Mustang's little crew. That episode was my inspiration.**

**I'm intending for this to be a multi-chapter fic, as I want to see what my writing stamina's like, but don't know how long it will eventually end up.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist, only the name of the gang leader, because, what is fanfiction if you can't make up random antagonists that create mega-whumpage for all of your favourite characters? XD**

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><p>Lined up in a row, hands shackled behind their backs (Roy gloveless with fingers bound together to prevent him from making a transmutation circle), and guns being waved about, Team Mustang knew that they were in trouble. Having now discarded the fake military uniforms, their captors were pacing about, edgy, yet excited that their plan had worked.<p>

The leader, Siyan, paced back and forth in front of them, flick knife twirling in time to the padding of his feet across the floor, occasionally reaching to brush the trigger of his gun, as if making to grab it. Grey eyes, sharp, cold, calculating; well-versed in this type of criminality scanned each face, each body's posture, searching rigorously for a chink in their collective armour, the tiniest fracture in their stony-faced façade which he could exploit to bring them all crashing down as he so desired.

Frustratingly though, they were as smooth and cool as glass; glass tough enough that you could continually pound on, but never scratch the surface. They weren't even reacting as he paced past them – staring ahead, looking at nothing, stance rigid. Siyan scowled: no group of people were this well-trained, this flawless. Everybody had a weakness, and it was his job to find it and work at it until he uncovered whatever information he'd been paid to unearth.

Surging forward aggressively, he fist enclosed around Mustang's jacket, lifting him slightly, surprised when no reaction flitted across the other prisoners' faces. 'Is this all of your team? Or is there anyone else that I should be informed about? The consequences won't be pretty if you lie,' he warned in a menacing whisper. Disinterested eyes rolled forwards, the captive's face portraying boredom; a blank canvas.

'Not that I can think of,' came the drawled response. 'And we're already at your mercy, like you so eloquently pointed out earlier, so I'm not going to be overly-affected by the prospect of any consequences. You can't capture us again, and you're certainly not stirring any fear in our hearts either.' His tone twisted into amused sarcasm at the end.

'Really? Good thing I enjoy a challenge then. It'd be no fun if there wasn't an opportunity for _play_.' With that, he released Roy, moved past Falman and Breda and settled on Hawkeye. 'Do you think our lady friend here would like to _play_ with me?'

His previously detached demeanour became lecherous in an instant – one hand grasping her chin, tugging it upwards, the other trailing down her lower back. Behind him, his cronies jeered, eager for a show.

Siyan knew that threatening a woman often did wonders to loosen the lips of men. And if her purity was their weakness, then what kind of a businessman would he be if he didn't exploit it?

Pulling her body close to his, feeling the warmth emanating from her, he shuddered into her whilst casting sideways glances at her companions. Usually by this point they'd be wide-eyed, pleading desperately, the woman sobbing and writhing in his grasp as he made a show of what was to come.

These men however weren't even looking at him, seemingly not caring about his actions. Riza herself was tense, but not struggling. Experimentally he let his hands roam across her chest, her stomach, watching for a reaction that never came.

Giving up the fruitless endeavour, he resumed his pacing. What kind of a team wasn't bothered by him approaching their woman in such a manner? Hawkeye didn't even look shaken. Putting on a show was only worth it if the audience was attentive.

From their awkward positions on the floor, Team Mustang observed Siyan getting more puzzled with their lack of response, inwardly amused. Falman's blank canvas technique seemed to be working perfectly – they'd given their captors nothing to threaten them with. Some of the other gang members were starting to fidget now, becoming agitated by the absence of any action. They still needed to figure out an escape plan though, for the stalemate would only last so long before something snapped.

The Flame Alchemist's thoughts were in turmoil. What did these men want? Without that piece of key knowledge, he had no other choice but to sit back in case he accidentally made their situation worse. What was obvious though, was that their leader was prodding for an opening, a little detail to use against them.

Roy was unbearably thankful at that moment for Fullmetal and his brother being out searching for the philosopher's stone. If the two kids were here, he'd no doubt that the men would have already found out whatever information they were probing for. He could imagine Edward, choleric temper and naivety and _two automail limbs that were very painful when removed or attached _being the perfect target.

And so, in this battle of wills, both the captors and the captives remained, silent, the only movement Siyan's relentless pacing across the office floor.

Sitting between Havoc and Breda, Riza felt anger burning through her veins. That bastard would pay for what he tried to insinuate, even if it was to push the team's limits. She didn't let it show, knowing that the five of them were capable of keeping their mask of indifference in place as long as it was necessary.

Suddenly the door handle to the office turned, slowly, gently, its quietness only audibly because of the absolute silence.

Instantly alert, Siyan and most of his men faced the door, weapons poised, while a few held guns to Team Mustang, indicating that they'd shoot if one of them attempted to warn off the newcomer.

'Hello Sirs, I've got the books and case files you requested,' Sergeant Fuery's voice drifted out from behind a stack of tomes so tall that he couldn't see over the top. He was humming softly to himself, oblivious to the both the tension in the room and its occupants as he turned to close the door, back facing away from the scene.

Collectively, the prisoners' eyes widened in fear and surprise.

Stunned for a second, Siyan swiftly recovered his senses; this was the moment he'd been impatiently waiting for.

Forget about a chink in the armour, a fracture in the flawless façade.

They'd just handed him the key to their knowledge.

The thick glass barrier they exuded was now thinner than an eggshell, shattering into a million glittering shards as he charged, ramming the shorter man violently against the hard wood door, books spilling to the floor with a clatter before Fuery could even process what has happening.

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><p><strong>Poor Fuery, walking into it there at the end! But how did Team Mustang get captured, I hear you ask?<strong>

**Well, it will be in the next chapter; at least, some of it will. I'm planning on having little flashbacks leading up to the start of chapter 1 incorporated into the overall story. Apologies if I dropped you into the deep end with this plot-wise.**

**Hopefully the next update will be soon - my muse is going strong for this!**

**As usual, I love any feedback, and simply wish for my fanfiction to be up to scratch.**

**TheInkEngraver**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, I've finally got more of any idea of where this is going, hence the change in summary. My plot bunnies are multiplying like crazy - it's hard to keep them under control!**

**Warnings for potty mouths - mostly Jean's. Enjoy! **

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><p>'<em>Hello. I take it you're the famous Siyan?' the man asked, face hidden partly by his clothes, partly by the overhang between two warehouses. The slither of moon visible cast little light upon the scene.<em>

'_Assuredly. I gather that you require my services?' came the smug-sounding response._

'_Why else would I be here? You're highly recommended when it comes to sorting out the odd. . . problem.'_

'_And what kind of a _problem_ are we talking about?'_

'_Straight down to business, huh? I admire that in a man. You see, my little gang isn't so little anymore, and thus the military have come prowling around my operations. Their incompetency was simply amusing until it started affecting our profit margins.'_

'_Why not confront them yourself? You sound like type of person with more than ample resources.'_

'_I'm not suicidal. Growing a successful business isn't easy, and I don't want my hard work to go to waste.'_

'_How very sensible of you.' Unseen in the shadows, a smile filtered onto Siyan's face. 'I've never been given the opportunity to harry our wonderful militia before.'_

'_It's true then? Your method?'_

'_Of course. Pinpoint a strategic weakness, then exploit it. . . mercilessly. Once I have the information you require initially, I'll await further instruction. Perfectly confidential. I'll be your third party – if anything goes wrong, you'll be left out of the loop; business safe.'_

'_Excellent. This military unit's tough. From what I can tell, it's got a nearly spotless record. I expect you to be quick and efficient. No complications. And you'll need to be careful to tie up any loose ends afterwards.' An identical grin now mirrored the other's. 'Will you consider my proposal?'_

_For the sum of money offered, Siyan couldn't refuse._

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><p>Kain thudded into the door heavily before crumpling to the floor, pinned by the larger man's weight crushing into him. Too stunned to react, struggling hadn't even occurred to the young Sergeant as Siyan's cronies restrained his arms whilst the man in question landed a vicious punch to his temple.<p>

The rest of Team Mustang where mute with shock, unprepared for such swiftness after the previous hour-long stillness. As for Roy, his mind – which had previously been enjoying a lovely daydream about his future miniskirt army, due to boredom – crashed back into reality, thoughts screaming over one another. In his relief at the absence of the Elric brothers, he'd forgotten that he'd sent Fuery off to the library to unearth some case files about a crime syndicate they'd been ordered to investigate.

Dread pooling in the pit of his stomach, the Colonel knew their captors now possessed the upper hand in their deadly game of chicken. Previously evenly-matched, the arrival of his second-youngest subordinate had tipped the balance. If he'd been with the rest of the team when they were captured, Roy was sure Kain could have followed their lead, kept cool and inconspicuous. Now though, the unexpected turn of events would knock him off-kilter, making it harder for him to maintain the stoicism of his superiors. Out of the entire unit, he was obviously the most nervous in any combat situation and loathed confrontations; the perfect target, ready for exploitation at a moment's notice. It wasn't that he was _weak_, per se, but his gentle, caring nature was in stark contrast to the brutal world of crime where toughness was the only reason you were still alive.

Back in reality, Fuery seemed to come to his senses, body moving of his own volition as he attempted to pull away from his captors, albeit shakily. His colleagues had recovered too; worry was etched onto Breda and Falman's faces, while Havoc looked downright murderous. Hawkeye wore an unreadable expression, but Roy guessed that after being groped, she wasn't taking this latest transgression too lightly, and was no doubt plotting a highly painful form of retribution.

'Get him up, and put him with the others Denzel,' Siyan barked out, leaving the task to a rather squat man, who appeared to be his second-in-command.

The poor Sergeant still hadn't regained complete control of his frame though, legs buckling as he was hoisted unceremoniously to his feet. A small gasp escaped his lips as one of the ruffians holding his arms twisted it painfully behind his back.

'Hey, leave him alone you bastard!' Havoc yelled, breaking the vow of silence the others had thus far managed to preserve. To other military personnel, it was a well-known fact that the Second Lieutenant was very protective of his team, especially those members younger than him.

'Leave him alone, you cry? How pitiful. But it's touching to know that you care. If you didn't, I think it would rather spoil the main event.' Siyan grinned, pleased to have finally got a rise out of his prisoners.

'What the hell are you talking about? This ain't some kind of show; it's you landing yourselves in a whole pile of crap–'

'Let me guess. Taking a military office in Central hostage and threatening its occupants is considered illegal? Admit it: you're simply embarrassed that you've been bested by a mere _crook_.'

'In your dreams! We can't be beaten by any old scum!' In the heat of the argument, Havoc's wording slipped.

'Thanks for the compliment. Nice to know you consider us competent. I'm afraid though, that I now need to have a word with your Colonel. He seems to be rather fond of telling lies, something which I can't abide.'

Pacing over to Mustang, he leaned over, so close that their lips were nearly touching. In an absurd moment of detachment, Roy had a vision of giving his captor a chaste kiss, just to savour the look of surprise that would no doubt show. He didn't follow through.

'I hope you remember me telling that your entire team was accounted for, Colonel Mustang, because the amount of people I see before me now has distinctly grown in numbers. And I did say that dishonesty had severe consequences,' he hissed.

'. . .' a pause on Mustang's end of the conversation. ' Not really, no. I must have zoned out for that bit, sorry. Is there anything else important that I might've missed?'

This threw Siyan, unprepared as he was for the exaggeration of the Colonel's normal, disinterested attitude. A heartbeat passed, then another.

'Did I say something wrong?' the smug tone was evident.

Grasping for words, the criminal floundered, until coming across a coherent sentence. 'Really? If you don't care about your men that much, then maybe I should do something to help you remember in future. Can't have that sloppy mind of yours neglecting your subordinates. Perhaps a demonstration of our abilities is needed.'

Meanwhile, during the two leaders' discussion, Fuery had been checked for hidden weapons, handcuffed, and dumped, glasses askew, in line with the others, next to Jean, their backs facing the wall. The Sergeant was pale, eyes wide, and kept shaking his head slightly as if trying to dispel a fug. A small trickle of blood ran down his temple from the earlier blow.

Jean looked over at his friend with concern. 'Hey man, you alright?' he asked softly, trying not to draw attention to the gun-toting maniacs prowling behind them.

A shaky nod was all he was rewarded with. Kain was clearly trying to get his emotions under control like his superiors, but fear was still evident in his eyes.

'We'll get out of this, no problem, just you wait,' the smoker reassured.

'Y-yeah, ok.'

Unfortunately this exchange didn't go unnoticed by their captors. Denzel slapped both of them across the face, leaving Havoc looking positively ballistic, and his younger comrade positively terrified.

'What was that for, you didn't say we couldn't talk!' raged the aforementioned hostage.

'Shut up, military scum!' We don't want you discussing escaping plans. You will only talk if we ask you a question!'

'Oh gee, like _we're_ that sophisticated to do anything without the help of our _brilliant_ Colonel.'

'Lieutenant Havoc, that is enough!' admonished Hawkeye, finally losing her patience. He complied, however still wore an angry scowl.

'Will you all be quiet! What is it with you – I could barely get you to utter a word and now you're even arguing amongst yourselves?!' Siyan's voice became dominant, immediately causing a hush to settle over the room.

Honestly, Roy was surprised that no-one had heard the shouting and come to check on the office. Then again, their office was off one of the main corridors, in a more secluded part of Central HQ. Not to mention the fact that the afternoon was wearing on, so people were beginning to go home. It was just their luck.

His obsidian eyes observed every step of the gang leader as he stalked over to Havoc and Fuery and addressed them coldly. 'Do you two boys have an issue with the way I'm treating you? Because if you do, get used to it. Military scum don't deserve anything better,' he paused to throw a pointed look in Mustang's general direction. 'Oh, by the way Colonel, this is the price for your earlier deceit. I hope it makes you feel happy.'

Without warning, he brought his foot up and smashed it into Fuery's side, before bringing it back to meet Havoc's shoulder as he tried to lunge in front of the younger man to protect him. The latter was pushed back into Riza, who somehow managed to grab his sleeve, preventing him from making the situation worse by retaliating.

Flinty grey eyes portrayed a grim satisfaction as they met the apprehensive ones below them, uncaring for the fear and pain as he kicked the Sergeant again, again, again, a smile spreading when his gasps of pain morphed into whimpers.

Finally he was getting somewhere.

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><p><strong>That concludes chapter 2, with chapter 3 hopefully not far behind!<strong>

**Big thanks to all of my reviewers, and people who've followed, it makes me very happy inside.**

**TheInkEngraver**


	3. Chapter 3

**Ha-ha! Between dodging life and all things associated with it, I've been managing to pull together a few words here, bash together a paragraph there; at least until life came to drag me back into its murky depths! XD**

**Enjoy the update.**

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><p>Breathing was now difficult to achieve. The continuous assault of pain kept catching his breath whenever he managed to gather enough strength to pull in the much-needed air, leaving him shaking and gasping. Every time his lungs expanded, his battered ribs protested at the pressure from the internal source.<p>

Unable to make sense of his reality through the assault, he missed the shouts of people above him - angry, desperate, pleading; he couldn't tell.

Externally, the battering ram that was Siyan's booted foot finally ceased, leaving in its wake a blurred fuzz of _hurting_ which blocked out the rest of the world. From his awkward position, pressed face-down on the floor, he couldn't focus his eyes past the fluffy tufts of carpet - not that he cared though. His very existence was focused solely on drawing shaking breath after shaking breath.

A white hot ache suddenly erupted, engulfing his side in agony. Whether he cried out or not, he couldn't say. _It hurt so much._

Without warning, a rough, warm hand grabbed the back of his collar, yanking him upwards far too quickly and harshly, resulting in a wave of nausea that left him dizzy and desperately trying to keep hold of his meagre lunch. The room spun alarmingly around him.

'I don't think you'll be needing these for the time being. It's not like you're _going_ anywhere,' a wave of panic rushed over the younger man as his glasses were removed from their usual residence on his face, immediately causing the room to blur. Unless they spoke, he could no longer tell the moving figures apart, or even track their movements.

'No, please. . . I-I can't s-see,' Kain managed to rasp out between gasps, hating how small and pitiful his voice sounded.

'That was rather my intention,' the voice belonging to Siyan crowed, as a dark blob materialised in front of him. Out of nowhere, a smaller blob – _possibly a hand?_ – swam into an indefinite focus, coming ever closer to his face. All pretences of remaining strong vanished as Fuery's body betrayed him, flinching away instinctively. Dull laughter filtered through to his ears.

More voices floated above him, incoherent. He was so confused, so scared, so light-headed. What did these men want? Why wouldn't they leave him alone?

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><p><em>It had been another normal day at the office.<em>

_Well, maybe not _normal_. This was the office belonging to a certain Colonel Roy Mustang and his subordinates. It could never be described as normal._

'_Has anyone seen my cigarettes anywhere? They've just vanished,' came the whining complaint from the Second Lieutenant._

'_Really Havoc? Your habit suddenly sprouted legs and waddled away?' was the indignant response Lieutenant Hawkeye offered, before she turned back to her paperwork._

'_More like rolled off the edge of the table and out the door,' Breda, the other Second Lieutenant chipped in. _

'_I'm serious; they were one my desk a second ago! Come on guys, who took them?'_

'_No idea.'_

'_Like I would care.'_

'_I agree with Hawkeye and Breda, I haven't noticed any suspicious activity regarding your cigarettes,' Warrant Officer Falman piped up._

_Havoc huffed in annoyance, 'are you sure? My break's in five minutes and I'm desperate!' He paused, thinking for a moment. 'Hey Fuery, what about you?' _

'_. . .' _

_When the seconds of silence extended into double digits, Havoc turned around to see why the Sergeant wasn't responding. An empty desk was his only answer. 'Wonder where he went.'_

'_Colonel Mustang asked him to go and fetch some documents from investigations about that gang we're currently tracking, a little while ago. He should be back soon.' The sole female in Mustang's unit helpfully supplied._

'_So where's the Colonel?'_

'_He had a meeting to attend with the higher-ups. I also expect him to return shortly.'_

'_Great. I bet those two are conspiring against me; they're always going on at me to quit.' The smoker sighed, despondent, and turned back to his paperwork, waiting for one of his suspects to enter the room. _

_Contrary to military headquarters' opinion, Team Mustang was not the well-oiled machine of wonders it appeared to be._

_In truth, it was probably the most dysfunctional of all, the colourful clash of personalities rarely resulting in a harmonious environment. However, over time, as the members got to know each other, the little crew had flourished, becoming more akin to a family than a professionally-detached army unit._

_It was their greatest strength, how close-knit they were._

_It was also the fact that could bring them crashing down. After all, they were several parts of a whole; unable to function properly if something was wrong with one of the pieces._

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><p>Team Mustang felt completely helpless as they watched Siyan beat up their youngest member (excluding the Elrics), their hearts twisting in both rage and sympathy. It was a dreadful emotion, to feel useless when one of their number needed help and support.<p>

Havoc was affected the most, being able to see everything happening only a few feet away. If it weren't for Hawkeye's death grip around his wrists, he would surely be lying with a bullet in his head from trying to give their captor the beating he deserved. At the other end of the line, Mustang, Falman and Breda craned their necks, trying to see the state of the Sergeant.

Kain's whimpers of pain were becoming more audible the harder Siyan kicked, his brute force fuelled by his men's jeers. In between each swing, Riza noticed him desperately clawing for air, but failing most of the time. 'Stop it! Can't you see that he's had enough?!'

Swinging round, the man's eyes now possessed a dangerously mad glint. 'No, I cannot. This is retribution for your Colonel's lies, and if it causes you pain, then maybe in future you should guide him from such a path.'

'Despite your reasoning, your logic is faulty. Did you consider the fact that hurting my subordinates wouldn't affect me? I'm not the one feeling pain, so how would that compel me to trade you information in order to stop?' Once again, Roy's steady, measured words were delivered in an even tone, giving away no emotion, causing the beating to cease temporarily.

'Because, my dear Mustang, you _care_, you care far too much. And though you might not be experiencing physical pain, you _are_ suffering one deeper than that; emotional. I think that right now, you want nothing more to strangle me, like the rest of your team no doubt do, to make me feel what you've felt, to cause hurt out of vengeance! And that is the true measure of weakness, to become attached, involved with the lives of others.'

'You're wrong!' heat finally broke through, colouring Mustang's voice in anger.

A smirk tugged at his captor's lips, 'I think not. I've studied you and your piteous team. _I know you_. Enlighten me; are there any other members who aren't present? If you tell me, and tell the truth, I can stop his pain.'

'As you profess to know so much about us, then answer it yourself.'

'Uh-uh,' the criminal shook his head. 'It needs to come from your own mouth.'

Black eyes widened in realisation. 'You filth. This is what you wanted, all along!'

'To break a strong man, yes. To break his family, yes. To break him and his family in more ways than one, yes. You won't win against me. Might as well make it easier for your poor, poor sergeant.' With that, Siyan, channelling his strength, struck Fuery again in the ribs. Team Mustang froze when the very loud _crack!_ sounded, accompanied by a drawn-out cry. 'Come on, Colonel, show him mercy.'

The eyes of his team were fixated on him now, Hawkeye unreadable, Falman and Breda desperate, Havoc pleading. Hating what Siyan was forcing him into, but hating himself even more, Roy prayed he was making the right decision. 'I'm sorry,' he whispered for his ears alone.

'The only other member of my team who is not currently stationed here is Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist,' he made sure his words carried across the room.

Delighted, Siyan cackled, 'thank-you. The first time is always the hardest: you'll find it easier to talk now.'

He motioned to Denzel, who jerked Fuery upright into a sitting position from where he had fallen over, before plucking the large glasses from his face. 'I don't think you'll be needing these for the time being. It's not like you're _going_ anywhere,'

Immediately, Kain's shift to panic was palpable. 'No, please. . . I-I can't s-see,' he implored, voice hoarse.

The other captives felt their guts coil up – they knew how bad his eyesight was; he could barely see anything without glasses, and if he was already disorientated. . .

'That was rather my intention,' Siyan crowed, crouching down to eye level with the young sergeant and raising his hand, gleaning some obscene satisfaction at the way the captive suddenly flinched away from the appendage when it appeared in his line of sight.

Raucous laughter echoed from the other thugs; however Siyan stayed true to his agreement with Mustang (at least for now) and failed to carry out the foreshadowed blow. After a second, Fuery's strength sapped, he slumped sideways into Havoc, who shifted marginally to accommodate him.

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><p>'Another dead end. We're never going to find the philosopher's stone,' Edward griped as he slouched against the cold metal of the train station bench.<p>

'Don't give up brother, we just haven't found the right lead yet,' the suit of armour sitting next to him comforted.

'I know Al, I know.'

'Yeah.'

Suddenly the blond sat bolt upright, 'what do you say we take a holiday and go back to Resembool to see Winry and Pinako? It's been ages!'

'Wait, brother! Don't you have to make a report to Colonel Mustang? We can't simply run off!'

A sigh, 'I suppose. Why don't you go on ahead to Resembool then, while I go to Central? As soon as I've finished with Colonel Bastard, I'll hop on the nearest train and join you.'

The younger Elric looked worried. 'Really? You'll be okay without me?'

'Of course! I _am_ the Fullmetal Alchemist after all,' Edward's famous shit-eating grin was plastered onto his face. 'You shouldn't have to miss out on a bit of relaxation because I became a dog of the military.

Upon seeing Alphonse still looking unsure, the grin widened. 'Go have some fun. You don't need to be my constant bodyguard. I'll be fine, promise.'

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><p><strong>So Ed and Al have finally made an appearance, albeit a small one. *Author cheers*<strong>

**Have written this whilst listening to Two Steps From Hell – such awesome, kick-ass instrumental music as there ever was – felt the drama during the second office scene, even if no-one else does. Decided to do this chapter multi-angle, as I couldn't resist having Fuery's perspective of the entire debacle. I'm so cruel at times }:-) The point of the two accounts of the office scene, because what happens differs slightly, is mainly to illustrate how out of it Kain is.**

**It became obvious to me when watching episode 43 (The Stray Dog) how small Fuery was in comparison to the rest of Team Mustang, even against Hawkeye and the Colonel, who are quite a bit smaller than Falman and Breda, in particular. Might use this fact in future, might not. **

**Will endeavour to post again soon, and, as usual, big thanks to my reviewers/followers/favouriters (bad grammar, I know)! And even those who simply read my work; watching the traffic stats increase makes me very happy.**

**TheInkEngraver**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 is now uploaded! *author dances***

**Basically, I owe massive apologies for the despicable time since my last update. . . over a month and a half ago. I hate that I couldn't update sooner, but once I actually managed to wrangle some time to write this chapter - my Nexus had a massive update and wiped the app I use to type my fanfiction on, and I had no back-up. *author pouts angrily* After that, I was ill :'-( which is not good for holiday cheer. **

**The other reason for my sojourn is that I've now finished both the first series of Fullmetal Alchemist, the Conqueror of Shamballa, and the majority of Brotherhood - now on episode 55 - nine more to go and then it'll all be over (+ Star of Milos)! *sobs* So I'm saving those episodes for when I'm ready to binge them all and face the prospect of NO NEW EPISODES TO WATCH.**

**A big thank-you for the positive reviews- here are replies to some I felt merited responses!**

Legendarily Quiet**: yes, Parental!RoyEd has to be just about my favourite thing currently, so there'll probably be buckets in future chapters.**

The SoulEater Alchemist**: *blushes from all the praise and loves you forever***

Brittany (anonymous)**: Most likely, Ed!Torture will be featured, otherwise, how can I have lots of Parental!RoyEd?! (Got to be cruel to be kind sometimes) XD**

thirdwave**: Glad to know someone else out there in the big wide world likes Two Steps From Hell - have yet to come across a track by them that I don't like. LOVE to know that my writing style is working well. And yes, I'm happy to be into FMA now too!**

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><p>The streets of Central were nearly deserted, late as it was on a Friday night. Only the occasional couple of pub-goers could be seen drunkenly tottering from one of the many bars that lined the streets. Edward sighed, before shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat as he walked along the shadowed pavement to Central Headquarters. His train had just pulled in at the station, three hours behind schedule, after a series of delays and track malfunctions, leaving him in a foul mood.<p>

Arguably it was now too late to make his report to the Colonel, however Ed wanted get it over and done with - he figured Mustang wouldn't lecture him for as long if he was preparing to leave at the end of the day, rather than if he was trying to avoid doing any paperwork. Besides, he'd needed to stretch his muscles and let them unwind after the gruelling journey. Though the young alchemist was pleased Al had eventually conceded defeat and gone ahead to Resembool, he had missed the company, and didn't fancy waiting the weekend alone before being able to re-join him.

Finally, Edward passed through the gates to the large, white military building, the _pat-pat-pat_ of his feet ceasing once be stood below the window of the office that belonged to Mustang; a single yellow light shone brightly from within. To be honest, he was slightly surprised that Mustang was still there; he'd been working on the inane theory that his superior wouldn't be in attendance, meaning he wouldn't have to bother making the stupid report on his - invariably unsuccessful - exploits.

'Huh, Lieutenant Hawkeye must be pretty annoyed with him if Mustang's still working this late,' Ed muttered under his breath as he turned on his heel and stalked back to the building's entrance. 'Oh well, guess there's no point in putting it off any longer then. Colonel Sarcasm, here I come!'

* * *

><p>Inside the office however, the environment was far from harmonious. Since the sergeant's beating over an hour ago, Siyan had retreated to Mustang's desk, where he sat in silence for the most part, the only exception being to confer in hushed tones with Denzel. Other than that, he'd left the captives alone, and seemingly was satisfied enough that they wouldn't try anything with Fuery unable to move independently, so had removed the gun-toting guards, allowing Team Mustang to whisper amongst themselves.<p>

Kain's condition had rapidly deteriorated, to the point where he lay limply against Havoc, eyes staring ahead slightly, but unfocused. He'd stopped responding to any form of stimulation a while earlier, leaving his teammates to speculate he'd gone into shock, along with the worrying possibility of internal injuries caused by the rough treatment.

Jean glanced down at his small friend, noting with concern the tremors sporadically coursing through his frame. It wasn't right for his friend to be the one in pain; he was the least deserving of them all.

'Hey, how's Fuery holding up?' Breda whispered, leaning slightly towards the sergeant's end of the line.

'Same as he was ten minutes ago,' Havoc replied tiredly. 'This quiet is really freaking me out - we don't even know what they want from us yet. And it's giving me itchy fists!'

'I think that's the point - by keeping us guessing their next move we can't very well formulate a plan' Hawkeye chipped in.

'Uncertainty is certainly a good way to subdue us - this gang's tactics are definitely practised,' Roy's brow furrowed darkly. 'Finding a chink in their armour won't be easy; so we'll just have to beat them at their own game.'

'Sir, with all due respect, these people seem to know a lot more about us than we do about them, I don't see how we can win,' Falman queried.

'Then we can use any overconfidence they might have from currently possessing the upper hand against them. At least, until I can get my gloves on and torch them!'

* * *

><p><em>Perhaps they didn't see the attack coming because it was mid-afternoon on a Friday and everyone was preparing for a nice, long weekend to recover from the tiring week they'd had. Or perhaps it was simply because they would never have expected to be caught in their own office, in the Central military command centre, during the day, with lots of possible eyewitnesses around.<em>

_'Excuse us Sirs, but we have a message for Colonel Mustang from the Führer,' a pair of soldiers stood in the doorway to the office - none of Mustang's crew remembered seeing these particular soldiers before, however they had no reason to be suspicious; after all, if they were sent by the King himself, what was there to fear?_

_'Well, you'd better bring it here. I'd like to know what His Excellency requires my services for.'_

_As the two men passed by Hawkeye, she took the time to study them; something seemed out of place. Their haircuts were slightly scruffy; their manner brusque, like they didn't know how to conduct themselves properly in a military environment. The taller one carried a bulge in his trouser pocket._

_Placing the sealed envelope in the Flame Alchemist's waiting hand, they turned to depart. Impatient, Roy ripped it open, removing the paper within and unfolding it, as simultaneously the taller soldier reached into his pocket. Obsidian eyes scanned the scrawled text, and widened; it read _'Got you now, Mustang. It's over.'

_'Hawkeye, it's a tra-argh!' His warning was choked off by the sudden explosion of light emanating from the flash bomb that had been hiding in the soldier's pocket - stunning Team Mustang into inaction. When the bright light cleared, they found themselves surrounded by a group of men in military uniform pointing a wide variety of guns at them - several aimed at the Flame Alchemist's gloves._

* * *

><p>Back in the present, Siyan had also appeared to grow bored of the silence - rising from the chair he stalked, as astute and predatory-looking as an eagle, over to the captives. 'Well Colonel, I think I'm just about ready to discuss our business, if, of course, it doesn't interrupt anything you had plann-'<p>

'HEY COLONEL BASTARD GUESS WHO'S HERE TO MAKE YOUR DAY ALL BRIGHT AND SHINY? ME! THE FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST, AND WHEN I SAY GREAT I MEAN TOTALLY HORRIBLE, BUT WHO CARES? IT'S NOT LIKE YOU DIDN'T HAVE THIS COMING OR ANYTHING!' Edward's too-loud, caustic greeting rang out as the door banged into the adjourning wall. He stood proudly in the office entrance, taking a moment to savour the startled silence before opening his eyes to survey his audience, feeling very satisfied for having asserted himself before his superior had had the opportunity.

Instead of being met with the dumfounded expressions and the scowl from Roy that he was expecting, he was faced with the dumbfounded expressions, a panicked eye-bulge from the Colonel. . . and half a dozen guns being aimed in his direction.

. . .

'Umm, so, is this a bad time? I can come back later?'

* * *

><p><strong>There we go! Ed's big mouth is gonna get him into trouble at some point. . . maybe in the soon-to-be-posted chapter 5!<strong>

**I'm aware it seems like a filler chapter, but it's helped me process where I'm taking this fic - I was really stuck for moving forwards from chapter 3, as I don't plan them in advance - I prefer to let them grow naturally. And it keeps me interested in them ;-)**

**Again, deepest gratitude to all of my readers/reviewers/favouriters/followers.**

**TheInkEngraver **

**~Waited specifically to post it in the first moments**** of 2015, as seems like too memorable a time not to post in!~**

**HAPPY NEW YEAR!**


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